Author of quotes: Alexander Vertinsky. Page 2

What do I care that you exist in the world
Suffer, play, dream about something and lie,
What do I care that you fade in the dawn
That you forget about the light and happiness do not wait.
What do I care, that all your drunken nights
Cold soul can't dream of warm,
You fade away that your mouth is tired-is flawed,
The fallen angels in the sky do not dare to take off.

Soon it will be spring. The sun will dry nasty slush,
And fields will blossom primroses, violets and dreams...
Just us spring not to finish singing, only to spring not the audience:
We ismali hurdy-gurdy was tired and already hopelessly ill.

Tide lazily weaves on the bottom
Patterns of foamy lace...
We invited the silence
At our farewell dinner.

I know, even the ships
Necessary Marina.
But not people like us! Not to us,
Vagrants and artists!

And no one thought just to kneel
And tell those boys that worthless country
Even bright feats - this is only the stage
In the infinite abyss - not available for the Spring!

You, of course, sinless, well, I without shame.

... Your fingers smell of incense
And eyelashes sleeping sorrow.
Nothing now, don't you
Nothing sorry.

And yesterday in the pub at the fountain
A man with a wooden leg
Claimed to love
Heal from a bullet the easiest.
And, laughing at my poetry.
After the fifth bottle of wine
Said, weeping.
His loving wife.
"You know, ran off with a sailor!
I'm crippled, and he's young!.."
I thought such issues
Not solved by a simple bullet.

Love hurt anything
It's kind of canine distemper.
Its so easy to carry children
And not we endured.
She saves us. She supports us.
Promises us happiness, beckoning.
But the weary heart no longer stands
The temperature of the fire.
Because it is hopelessly tortured
From the simplest of things.
To eternal punishment and torment it accustomed to,
But I can't get used to it.

Finally, leave me alone
I wore myself like an old coat.
In the window movie, sad, silent.
I need someone? No, no one.

Where are You now? Who are You kissing your fingers?
Where did Your China doll You?
You seem to be then loved by the Portuguese?
And maybe Malay You left...
The last time I saw You so close,
In the span of the street You almost ran the car...
I dreamed that now in the dens of San Francisco
Purple nigger you takes the coat...

And in the chaos of this terrible world
Under fierce vortex of fire
Huge sweeps, rag Shakespeare
And only a little volume - I...

About me don't be sad, my friend. I chilled the gloomy bird.
My master is a cruel organ grinder - makes me dance.
Removing the ability of happiness, I look at the unhappy face,
And under the eternal moaning of the organ I painfully want to sleep.

You look like a doll in this little dress, scarlet,
Combed childish and ridiculous.
And I'm surprised that You, so small,
Brought such agony to me, this is great.
Hysterically angry, stressed vulgar,
For public stand - always on sale.
You just want revenge for Your poor past
Without family, without love and without a fridge I like.